Devil Take The Hindmost
by ShatteredAngelWings
Summary: Crystal Jennings is a normal sixteen-year-old girl. Her father and his girlfriend thought it would be fun for her to take up ventriloquism. Too bad the puppet they picked was named Slappy—and for good reason! Slappy/OC


Devil Take The Hindmost

Hours Til Self-Destruct: 0

"I don't see _why _he bought it. I think it's creepy." I can hear Monique, my father's girlfriend, conversing with Daniel, my obnoxious, nerdy brother. "It kinda reminds me of Chucky, you know, from _Child's Play._" His squeaky voice, despite him being twenty-two and preparing to leave for college, grates on my eardrums, adding to my painful headache.

"Crystal, come here," says Monique. Running my hands through my clumpy, wet hair, I descend the stairs and turn to the living room. The tv's playing _Who's The Biggest Loser_ behind Monique's shoulder. Standing between them is a little black case, kind of like my guitar case, but about half the size. Big enough for a small, thin child to fit in it.

Monique's light-brown hair is curled and pulled back into a ponytail, her bands brushed to the side. Her skin is lightly tan from sunbathing, her tan lines like caramel. Her voluptuous figure, plump like a girl who knows her way around a sweets shop, is on display with this cute pink-and-brown polka-dotted bikini. Her slanted grey-green eyes, due to her Japanese heritage, blink at me.

She looks beautiful.

"Crystal, happy birthday!" Daniel's squeaky voice giggles.

His dark, long hair is brushed into a bun, wisps escaping. His light skin has a smattering of barely-noticeable freckles; if you stick him in the sun, they turn dark like Cheetos. His round, young face makes everyone think he's silly and very young but he's extremely shy and quiet. He's tall, though, five-foot-eleven, much taller than myself. He gets that from his dad, one of Monique's exes.

"Thanks," I say slowly, knowing the two of them are scheming—and when they do, shit goes down. "We'll wait for your father." Monique's eyes flick behind me. "I'm already here."

My father, Joshua, is a very tall, muscular man. His long, dark hair is held in braids and he's got braces on teeth to straighten his wacky bite. He's dark, like dark chocolate. His face has scars from acne that never healed and his skin is discolored with Vitiligo.

I'm mixed. My skin is the color of mocha, with very noticeable splashes of my father's Vitiligo. My hair, which is long and black like my mom's, is pulled back into a braid. I regularly straighten it, so no one except my family every sees me with my natural hair. My eyes are slanted because my mother's Japanese, like Monique, and my eyes are the color of the sky, which is the same color of my grandfather's.

Joshua stands beside Monique, one hand resting on her shoulder. She looks like she's going to pee, explode or both. "We have two announcements!" she says excitedly, bouncing.

"Is it good or bad?" I ask, eyeballing the suitcase and her bright, bright grin. "I'm pregnant!" she blurts out, unable to help herself and the blood stops thundering in my ears. I gape at Joshua. I flap my mouth at Daniel, who flaps his mouth back.

"Seriously?" My voice conveys my disbelief as it reaches a girly pitch. "Yes!" laughs my father. "Very much so." Monique's voice is very loud and she's grinning so big it hurts _my _cheeks just _looking_ at her.

"Congratulations. And now I have the _lovely _imagery of you two going at it!" I mock-shudder. Daniel cracks up, his braying laugh making me smile. "Now, young lady—" my dad begins but his pregnant girlfriend places a hand on his arm and whispers, "Josh, please, it's the girl's sixteenth birthday."

Power to the birthday girl. He gives me the stink eye for my language but lets it go anyway. "Here—here! Open it!"

I open the rest of my gifts. I get a laptop, the lastest iPhone, some Anne Rice books, some video games and some anime and none-animated movies. Finally, after we order some greasy, hot pizza and play _Vampires Suck _on the tv, I get around to the creepy little guitar case.

"It's _creepy_," Daniel says around his supreme slice. Cheese drips out of his mouth and cools on his chin. Like a gentleman, he tries to lick it up and makes me nearly piss myself laughing. When I turn to the case, the room grows quiet, like in a tv show where the main character opens their creepy gift and that sets off the inquisition.

"It's not that Cabbage Patch kid you saw at Target, is it?" I say, holding the case away from me at arms-length. Maybe they got me a stuffed squirrel. I pop the latch and a chill runs down my back; I shiver and tug my oversized sweater tighter around me.

I slowly pull the zipper away from the teeth and the suspense is killing me; my hands are shaking and my fingers fumble. When I _finally_ get the damn lid off, I stare at the contents.

The inside has blood red felt and trimmed with lace, which is odd. It smells like musty books. My blood runs cold when I look at what's lying in the center of the bottom half of the case.

His carrot-top orange hair is combed meticulously to the side; his pale skin with a smattering of dark freckles is flawless, without a single blemish, not even a crack in his foundation; and his long, carrot-colored eyelashes look almost silly against his fair skin.

His simple, black suit is prim and crisp and not a single wrinkle. Each crease is ironed razor-straight. His loafers are shining in the light and he's not smiling, looking at though he's sleeping. There's a little card in his breast pocket.

I look at my dad in surprise.

"You got me a dead dwarf?"


End file.
